Nik’s first Spring Training game is this weekend. THIS WEEKEND. As I’ve considered this and the fact that the season is starting in three weeks, that familiar baseball-related anxiousness has started creeping back into my life.
There are a lot of things about this lifestyle that I’ve pretty well mastered. Staying calm during games is not one of them. Which is ironic considering that Nik is completely the opposite-cool as a cucumber (today is old woman phrase day—don’t worry about it) and completely in control.
Oh, but one of us has to be a basket case, right? And better me than him, right? I mean, if you really focused in on the crowd, I’m positive you could pick me out during any of Nik’s starts. I make almost no noise—polite clapping at the end of each half inning and slightly less than polite clapping (relief clapping is what it is) at the end of each outing. So you’ll have to use a keen eye, but it can be done.
You see, I will be the one whose knees are shaking fast enough to convince those around me I have an irreparably advanced case of Restless Leg Syndrome. I will also be the one wincing randomly. And, of course, the one muttering slightly under my breath, sending my husband soft messages of encouragement that he cannot hear and that he would ignore if he could. Or else, I’m the one with both hands covering my mouth so that those nearby cannot tell that I am muttering slightly under my breath. I like to believe the hands over the mouth make me seem less crazy but it’s probably a tossup.
And so it is. Another season of baseball games begins. Another season of weekly panicking and many opportunities for me to look like an over caffeinated mental patient. Let’s play ball!
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Random Musings
Payday
The first unmarked envelope filled with $100 bills arrived. Baseball season and its accompanying sketchiness have officially begun.
New Tunes
Okay, I’m kind of scared to say this—if you have younger, “hip” siblings you understand why. They’ve basically bullied me into never revealing songs or artists I like because they always respond with “that song is sooo old.” Conversation over. But I just like this song so much I can’t help myself. It’s called “Somebody I Used to Know” by Gotye. Have you heard it? Am I so late?
Hot Water Drought Update
Our hot water worked perfectly for exactly twenty four hours. Now it’s hot for about five minutes before turning to something I would classify as almost lukewarm. The maintenance man and his supervisor were supposed to come by this morning to verify (this is 100% true) that the problem is with our water heater nipples. I am officially tired of this adventure.
Hope everyone is LOVING spring training:)
The first unmarked envelope filled with $100 bills arrived. Baseball season and its accompanying sketchiness have officially begun.
New Tunes
Okay, I’m kind of scared to say this—if you have younger, “hip” siblings you understand why. They’ve basically bullied me into never revealing songs or artists I like because they always respond with “that song is sooo old.” Conversation over. But I just like this song so much I can’t help myself. It’s called “Somebody I Used to Know” by Gotye. Have you heard it? Am I so late?
Hot Water Drought Update
Our hot water worked perfectly for exactly twenty four hours. Now it’s hot for about five minutes before turning to something I would classify as almost lukewarm. The maintenance man and his supervisor were supposed to come by this morning to verify (this is 100% true) that the problem is with our water heater nipples. I am officially tired of this adventure.
Hope everyone is LOVING spring training:)
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
The Great Hot Water Drought of 2012
It all started Thursday night. My poor husband, not unused to random screaming from myself, was treated to a “there’s a flying roach in my room/I’m being attacked by a big, scary man (pretty sure it would be the same level of screaming for both events)” decibel yell when the water hit my leg.
I asked him to call the apartment complex. He got on the phone, paused, looked at me and asked if it was an emergency. Ummm yeah! We have no hot water. What part of that is NOT an emergency?
Fast forward to Friday when I get home and realize that we still have no hot water. I call again and am told that the maintenance people are “busy.” Woooowww. I’m busy too—busy stinking because I CAN’T TAKE A SHOWER!!! No one shows up that day either, and I’m a little bit testy when I call (for the third time) the next day.
So I tell Nik, prepare to be frightened, I am gonna let whoever answers the phone have it. To which Nik he nods while giving me a look like he knows what’s really going to happen. Because, here’s the thing, I don’t particularly enjoy being mean to people whether they deserve it or not. One of my most used, least acted upon phrases is “I am going to make a scene.” This never happens, but Nik is wise enough to not invite himself to partake in the wrath of the hot water-less crazy girl stomping around the living room.
So I call and when this sweet, young girl answers I say sort of sternly that they need to send someone from maintenance NOW. I then explain the situation and use the word NOW again to further make my point. She asks me to hold and comes back with the number for the maintenance man who shows up and tells us that we need a part, but, you see, the part people are only open Monday-Friday so no hot water until Monday afternoon.
Well, Nik braved the elements and had himself a little polar bear dip Sunday. I was half asleep, half awake for this little adventure but did manage to notice that he was in there for a very long time considering the temperatures. Come to find out, he had spent about 45 seconds in the shower and the rest of the time mentally preparing for it.
(My parents were out of town so I showered there Saturday and Sunday-- just so you don’t think I’m completely disgusting.)
Anyway, the guy came back Monday afternoon with our part and voila! We have hot water again. Woo! And so concluded the Great Hot Water Drought of 2012.
I asked him to call the apartment complex. He got on the phone, paused, looked at me and asked if it was an emergency. Ummm yeah! We have no hot water. What part of that is NOT an emergency?
Fast forward to Friday when I get home and realize that we still have no hot water. I call again and am told that the maintenance people are “busy.” Woooowww. I’m busy too—busy stinking because I CAN’T TAKE A SHOWER!!! No one shows up that day either, and I’m a little bit testy when I call (for the third time) the next day.
So I tell Nik, prepare to be frightened, I am gonna let whoever answers the phone have it. To which Nik he nods while giving me a look like he knows what’s really going to happen. Because, here’s the thing, I don’t particularly enjoy being mean to people whether they deserve it or not. One of my most used, least acted upon phrases is “I am going to make a scene.” This never happens, but Nik is wise enough to not invite himself to partake in the wrath of the hot water-less crazy girl stomping around the living room.
So I call and when this sweet, young girl answers I say sort of sternly that they need to send someone from maintenance NOW. I then explain the situation and use the word NOW again to further make my point. She asks me to hold and comes back with the number for the maintenance man who shows up and tells us that we need a part, but, you see, the part people are only open Monday-Friday so no hot water until Monday afternoon.
Well, Nik braved the elements and had himself a little polar bear dip Sunday. I was half asleep, half awake for this little adventure but did manage to notice that he was in there for a very long time considering the temperatures. Come to find out, he had spent about 45 seconds in the shower and the rest of the time mentally preparing for it.
(My parents were out of town so I showered there Saturday and Sunday-- just so you don’t think I’m completely disgusting.)
Anyway, the guy came back Monday afternoon with our part and voila! We have hot water again. Woo! And so concluded the Great Hot Water Drought of 2012.
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